The Forest has Secrets
by Knit-orious
Summary: Lance has always been able to see things that other people couldn't, but he's never been able to explain it. When he was younger he'd cower at the shadows that his parents always told him weren't there. It's been years now, and while he still sees strange things on occasion he always comes up with a reasonable explanation. But what happens when he moves back home after college?


Moonlight shone through the trees, casting ominous shadows across the forest floor. The night was clear but the forest was quiet, devoid of the sounds of animals, insects or even the wind whispering through the trees. It was eerie. Unnaturally devoid of noise… A small boy, no older than the age of eight rubbed his eyes of sleep and sat up, looking around him with a confused and scared expression on his face. He knew the forest and it's floating lights. The forest was his friend and the creatures that would peek from behind bushes or the small winged people that would lead him to flowers. They'd accompany him as he ran through the grass, using sticks to lift large leaves and follow furry creatures through the bushes. His mom would call them his imaginary friends. He didn't think they were so imaginary.

The little boy let himself look around the familiar space, the forest feeling...different. It made his stomach hurt and his hair stand on end. This wasn't the forest he'd become acquainted with. This forest didn't entice him, it scared him. The lights of his backyard porch filtered through the trees,visible, but just barely. It was a blurry speck in the distance.

"Laaance!" A woman called out, panic evident in her voice. His mother! Lance was pulled out of his thoughts as he rubbed his arm, shivering in the cold. Hoisting himself to his feet, he scrunched up his face as the damp earth chilled his feet and mud seeped in between his toes. What was he doing out here? How did he get here?

"Lance! Baby, where are you!" He heard his mother, her shrill cry more frantic than before.

Lance tried to call out but found his voice stuck in his throat. His chest felt tight, crushed under the weight of a the night surrounding him.

"M-Mama…" He whimpered, shivering violently now. It wasn't because of the cold though. Oh no, it was much more than that. He felt something was wrong...something evil was sapping the warmth from his body and every second was an agonizing reminder that he was small and weak, completely at the mercy of whatever misfortune decided to happen upon him. Wide blue eyes filled with tears as he slowly turned his head, peering into the darkness. The shadows seemed more animate now, twisting in front of him, slowly forming into a writhing mass with glowing yellow eyes. Lance was paralyzed, unable to move even as the mass of shadows launched itself in his direction.

He finally found enough air in his lungs to scream.

Lance jolted forward, sweat pouring down his forehead as he grabbed his chest. His eyes darted across his room in a panicked motion, relief flooding his body as he realized he was in bed. He sighed, trying to calm the harsh beating of his chest as he relaxed against the headboard.

'A childhood memory?" Lance thought to himself. Thinking back to when he was a child, Lance was prone to sleepwalking and ended up in the woods one night. It hadn't been a great evening: The door was wide open and his mother had been convinced there was a break in. The cops were called and they eventually found Lance, crying and stumbling through the woods trying to get back home. It was an incident that actually spurred his mother to take him to therapy for his sleepwalking habits. He remembered being afraid when he realized he'd wondered away from his house and he remembered being afraid of the dark, but the memory faded from there. Even through the sudden adrenaline coursing through his body Lance grasped at the memory of the dream. It slipped through his fingers like smoke leaving him with an unfamiliar feeling of dread. The man didn't have much time to dwell on it as his phone began to ring.

Squinting in the low light he grabbed at the phone sitting on his night stand.

"Hello?" He let out, voice gravelly.

"Lance! Did you forget about breakfast? Lisa is going to leave soon and mom keeps asking where you are!"

The man looked at the clock on his bed side, a sliver of guilt going through him.

"What? No! Of course not Marco- I could never-"

"Pfffft, liar. Look, just get here soon and don't take an hour to get ready this time!" His brother chastised him before hanging up. Lance collapsed in his bed, letting out a long winded sigh.

Standing up he picked a shirt off of the floor, giving it a sniff before deciding it was clean enough to wear. He made his way to the bathroom, going through his morning routine. The dream still invaded his mind though. It was uncanny. Weird. He hadn't had dreams like that in a while.

'It's just a memory, nothing else...' He thought to himself, shaking his head a little bit he dabbed his face dry and smoothed out his chilled skin with moisturizer. He could reminisce all day about his childhood memories but that didn't get him any closer to getting out the door. Slipping on shoes and grabbing his keys Lance made his way out of his small apartment. When Lance got to his mother's house he didn't bother knocking, bounding up the porch and strolling right in while kicking his shoes off in one swift motion.

"Sorry I'm late! I didn't hear my alarm go off!"

A young woman poked her head around the archway of the kitchen, rolling her eyes in a bemused fashion "Mhmm…" She let out dramatically.

There was a laugh behind him and Lance eyed his other sister as she walked past him. "You're always late to everything, I don't even know how you come up with so many excuses." Rachel commented. "Do you have a little book you write down all of your stuff in?" She teased.

"Hey, when you're this caliber of gorgeous it takes time to to get prepared for everyone else. This kind of face doesn't just happen overnight. " Lance shot back, following suit into the kitchen.

The rest of the family was gathered around the dining table, Lisa feeding her 3-year-old daughter in a highchair and everyone else talking amongst themselves. Lance's mother was in the kitchen, employing Luis for help as she finished the huge meal. She turned her head, hearing Lance and Rachel come in through the archway.

"Ooooh! hows my college graduate doing this morning?" She asked, giving Lance a bright smile that was full to the brim with pride. He couldn't help but return it. His mother was the definition of doting; if he looked up that word in the English dictionary Lance had no doubt her picture would be right there in the description. On the counter was a plate stacked high with bacon.

"Hungry?" He said, stealing a piece.

"Hey! Don't go eating it all- you know better to eat before everyone else. Put it on the table!" She scolded, not unkindly and pointing a wooden spoon at him.

"Okay, okay! Sorry Mom!" Lance giggled, ducking out of the way before his mother could whack him. He raised an eyebrow as he heard her curse in spanish under her breath, hesitating as he passed the threshold of the kitchen. "I didn't realize we were so low on eggs! Lance, can you go get some from the store quickly?"

"Can't we have breakfast without them?" He asked, quirking his lips.

"No! It's the only thing Sylvio will eat without throwing a fit and I don't feel like dealing with a tantrum this morning. You were late anyway! Please?" She asked, casting Lance a slightly worried expression. It was clear she was a little stressed and Lance felt pange of guilt settled itself in his chest. She _had_ just spent all of yesterday cooking and planning and cleaning for his coming home party.

"Okay," Lance conceded, expression softening. "I'll be back soon." He replied, sneaking another piece of bacon while placing it on the table.

"Hurry! The rest is done and Lisa and Luis have to leave in a couple of hours!"

Hopping in his little car again he rolled down his window, pop tunes flowing from the radio and the cool breeze brushing his hair back. The summer sun shone cheerfully through the valley, idyllic and calm. The town they lived in was sizable enough to have a big brand grocery store but close knit enough to have a lot of supported local businesses. A few would pop up now and again- pastry stores, pawn shops, and plenty of cafes. As Lance drove through downtown he contemplated how much he'd missed the cute little shops over the year he'd been gone.

Once Lance arrived at the store he immediately headed towards the eggs and dairy section, finding himself looking over his options and picking a stack of bulk eggs to put in his basket. On his way to the register he felt himself drawn to the snack aisle. While he was there, right? He had a little extra pocket change from traveling, a bag of chips couldn't hurt. Turning the corner he nearly crashed into someone, barely catching himself. From the looks of it the other man had barely caught himself as well. Lance was going to say something, an apology maybe, but looking down he was met with the most beautiful pair of eyes he'd ever seen. They were a silvery dark gray, moody but piercing with an underlying ferocity to them. They were also glaring at him. Lance floundered like a fish, nearly falling backwards as he took a kick step back.

"Watch where you're going." The dark haired man grumbled, skirting around him.

Lance hesitated, still a bit taken aback and his throat dry. That...that's not how you greet someone at all! He felt pettiness rear its ugly head. Before he even realized what he was saying he exclaimed, definitely too loudly for being in a grocery store, "Maybe you should be the one to watch out next time, Mullet head!"

'Smooth Lance. You could win this years top insult prize with that one…' He thought sourly to himself as he glared at the back of the strangers head. Lance narrowed his eyes as he earned a glance back, eyebrows raised. A quick turn into the isle and he was out of site, red faced and more than a little annoyed.

He eventually made it back with the eggs and enjoyed breakfast with the rest of his family. He bid his brother and sister goodbye, giving his nephew and niece a hug as they packed themselves into the car. After Lance had earned his associates in writing his mother had insisted upon celebrating with the whole family. He maintained the mantra that it was no big deal; only an associates degree and in a pretty useless field at that! He wasn't even the first in his family to graduate. Eventually the excitement calmed down. It was only a couple of more days before the house was cleared of the rest of the family and the only child left in the house was Lance's brother Micheal. It was a bit quieter and less chaotic, and while a part of Lance was a little relieved he sometimes missed all of the noise and clammer his siblings would make. Now that they were all adults it only made sense most of them were out of the house and living their own lives. A few still lived in town like he did but Rachel and a lot of his cousin's lived a few states away. It was weird to finally be home but still feel homesick.

Lance settled into his childhood home with ease, almost dreading going back to his lonely apartment for the night. He stayed long after Lisa and the rest left and his mother was more than happy to take advantage of him to do chores around the house. It was a familiar routine to last year when he'd actually stayed at the house last year. He almost moved back in this summer but he thought it was time for his own place. He'd probably get a job somewhere- maybe at that café that he'd seen while driving. He was familiar with a couple of the people here, he was sure one would hire him back. Lance didn't know what he was going to do this next school year and the thought plagued him all day. Was he going to go back to college out of state or would he opt for the one here? What would he even go for? Would he just advance his current one? The future was uncertain for him, but he took comfort in the familiarity of his home town. It did feel a little off though. Not just getting his own apartment, but the environment. Everything around him felt off and he didn't know why. The town, the air...the forest. It surrounded the town fairly snuggly, stretching for miles to the coast on one side and thinning out as a nearby city stood its ground to the east.

He had a tiny porch with a sliding glass door that gave way to a sparse yard and the expanse of tall birches, aspens, and evergreens. It filtered light piecefully during sunset and Lance had to admit that despite the size and crumbling brick walls outside of the complex it scenic. Lance usually liked to drink a cup of tea before nightfall, rocking in the old seat on the his mom had given him as a housewarming gift. Lately though the feeling of nightfall felt a little too sinister for Lance's liking. Maybe he was freaked out from the dream he had? And he'd been having it a lot- almost every night since the first night he'd moved in. It left him floundering through his blankets, sweating and out of breath with little memory of what had happened. It was a routine torture. At least until one night where mind seemed to wander away from him. He was looking at a familiar face, one he couldn't quite place at first, but he recognized the eyes. The man was just...sitting. Leaning into something with a book on his lap, eyes lazily darting across the page. Lance blinked in confusion, a hazy sheet of fog covering his vision as he looked around.

He couldn't distinguish very many shapes. Maybe a bookshelf? A desk? It was like looking at his surroundings through fogged glass. The sound of a page turning caught his attention again and he stared at the man in front of him, taking a tentative step forward. The soft sound of his foot step seemed to catch the mystery man's attention and he looked up, eye furrowing in confusion as he leaned forward. He was looking at where Lance was but he wasn't looking _at_ Lance, more like through him. Lance didn't wake up with a start that morning, but rather he woke up confused and a little flustered.

Why was he dreaming about that rude guy he'd met at the grocery store?


End file.
